


Wild Amber

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: But Not Directly Involved In Anything Sexual, Consent Issues, Cytherea Being a Little Bit Creepy, During Canon, F/F, Gideon is Present and Sleeping, Immortality, Little Black Dress Exchange 2020, Magic, Masturbation, Masturbation via Magical Means, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: She had known another Gideon whose symphony was all golden, amber, and shining bronze.
Relationships: Cytherea the First/Gideon Nav
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	Wild Amber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kartaylir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kartaylir/gifts).



Gideon was silent once again. Not because she was compelled to remain so, which Cytherea had suspected since the beginning, but because she was so exhausted that even snoring was too much for her at the moment. Cytherea ran her fingers through Gideon's wild amber hair, its texture wonderfully healthy and coarse. Even now, after being approximately half-dead (or perhaps two-thirds-dead) from the necromancer's challenge, Gideon's hair - all of her really, or at least the parts Cytherea could see - glowed with life. The hint of bronze skin beneath the melted, peeling paint of the Ninth House, the well-formed muscles rippling beneath her black robes each time she trembled in her sleep and, of course, the golden eyes, seared into Cytherea's memory not once, but twice. For she had known another Gideon whose symphony was all golden, amber, and shining bronze.

She envied Gideon for positively brimming with life so soon after shaking off death's greedy hands, but more than that, she loved her for it. She had loved the _First_ Gideon, to be sure, as any good lyctor sister should. But it was the _Ninth_ had Cytherea shivering and writhing with each touch, as if _she_ was a teenage girl. Or at least her outdated impression of how a teenage girl might feel and behave, as she recalled very little of her life before lyctorhood, and what she could remember was wrapped up in a haphazard haze of excruciating pain. Luckily, she could use that pain - well, _Dulcinea's_ pain - as an excuse for her every breathless tremor when Gideon was nearby.

As if sensing those thoughts with her dreams, Gideon turned her head, the shift in position further aggravating the arousal that pooled beneath Cytherea's flimsy dress. After the first few centuries of lyctorhood, sexual interest or arousal had been infrequent, which had been something of a relief. Lyctors had all the time in the world, without any of the opportunity to _enjoy_ having all the time in the world. Cytherea had lived for thousands of years enduring the racking pains that even near-immortality could not quell, doing nothing but serve her god, the _Emperor Undying, Necromancer Divine, King of the Nine Renewals, our Resurrector, the Necrolord Prime_ , or whatever the hell you wanted to call him.

It was time she put an end to it all, before this torture drove her halfway to madness. And while she was there, she may as well enjoy herself a little.

Yet during the short time she'd spent in Canaan House, the novelty of bodily pleasure had quickly worn off and it had, once more, become an irritation. If Cytherea had less in the way of self-awareness, she might have blamed more on the fact that she was impersonating a dead woman, rather than the awful truth - that she'd all but forgotten how to speak to anyone whose years were fewer than one thousand. They were so young, so full of _life,_ and it was all so very cruel. If any of them actually succeeded, and she personally hoped they _didn't_ , they would not thank Him for it. None of it was worth it. None of it, except perhaps that she'd been given the chance to meet the magnificent creature that was Gideon Nav.

She stroked Gideon's hair again, her insides fluttering as, despite it all, the young woman with the wild amber hair actually _smiled._ Harrowhark Nonagesimus didn't understand what a boon she'd been gifted with. The pangs of jealousy she felt towards Gideon's necromancer ought to have been nothing in comparison to what she'd suffered over the years, and yet….and yet…

Unable to ignore the urge any longer, unable and rather un _willing_ to move the dead weight that was Gideon Nav, Cytherea focused on the warm blood pumping between her legs, on the webs of veins and nerves. She'd perfected this technique long ago, when more conventional masturbation was inconvenient, or too physically demanding. Without the involvement of a second (or third, or fourth) party, it was far easier to simply manipulate her own blood and delight in the gentle pressure against her clit. In many ways it was better, and certainly more efficient, than inviting another into her bed - not that she'd have kicked Gideon out, mind you. She closed her eyes as she lost herself in the sensations of pulsing blood and a fleeting euphoria that almost made her feel _alive_ before she came back to herself and the living corpse she called her body, trembling with the fading afterglow of her climax.

When Cytherea opened her eyes again, Gideon's beautiful eyes gazed into hers. _Gideon of the golden eyes._ Poor thing, she hadn't meant to wake her.

"It's all right, darling," she said, her voice like sweet, warm honey as she stroked Gideon's cheek, gathering dry, dusty flakes of paint beneath her fingernails. "Rest as long as you need. For you, I have all the time in the world."


End file.
